Obsession Untamed

As if she hadn’t gotten enough of that from Phil already.



She shook her head at him. “I don’t have to justify myself to you, too. I didn’t invite you in here, in case you’ve forgotten.” She unfastened her pants and slid them down her hips, then turned her back on him as she reached into her closet for a hanger. “You’re welcome to go anytime you want to, just don’t look at me like I don’t measure up.”



“I’d say your measurements are just about perfect.”



Delaney spun at the sound of the deep male voice. And froze. The D.C. Vampire stood in her doorway watching her as intently as the cat had moments before.



Son of a bitch.



Her headache and jitters disappeared in a rush of adrenaline and anger. This time, he was going down.



She whirled, reaching for her Glock. And never touched it. He slammed her back against the wall, wrenching her arms above her head, capturing her wrists in a single large hand even as he pressed his body against hers. Eye to eye with the buttons of his burgundy silk shirt, she fought for her life. Struggling to free her hands, she tried to ram her knee into his groin.



He stopped her cold, nailing her to the wall with his pelvis.



Her breath heaved. Fury swirled in her mind as his size and sheer strength overwhelmed her. Twice, he’d gotten her. Twice. It was inexcusable.



The blood pounded fast and hard through her veins as she stared up into his face, her own reflected in his dark wraparound sunglasses. God, she’d never seen anyone so ugly on the inside who was so incredibly good-looking on the outside. Was that how he got so close to his victims?



Her mind lurched with realization. “How did you get in here?”



“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” His voice was deep and rich, as pleasing as his looks even as he gripped her jaw, immobilizing her with an ease that terrified her. For years, she’d trained hard so this kind of thing wouldn’t happen. So she wouldn’t find herself the prey instead of the hunter.



So she wouldn’t end up like her mother.



Yet, in the end, she had. The tightness of the killer’s mouth, the determination in every line of his face let her know he intended to finish what he’d started yesterday. And her utter inability to move beneath his iron grip told her there was nothing she could do to stop him.



Blast it! If she thought begging would help, she might have tried to force the words past her pride. But not for a second did she believe he’d listen to her. The man had shown his other victims no mercy whatsoever. None. For God’s sake, he’d killed two children.



He was utterly without a conscience.



Hatred flared hot and coarse, burning through her blood. “You’re going to pay, you bastard, for all the lives you’ve stolen. Sooner or later, they’ll catch you, and you’re going to fry.”



“Right,” he muttered.



She tried again to jerk her face out of his hold, but he only tightened his grip.



“Hold still, or you’re going to have bruises.”



His words caught her so off guard, she laughed, a single, humorless release of sound. “Bruises? Are you kidding? I’m going to be dead.”



“I’m not going to kill you.” The words were terse. Frustrated. “Now will you look into my goddamn eyes?”



She stared at him. Was it possible she was dreaming this? Maybe having a fever-induced nightmare? Because the way this was going down made less than no sense. The killer, appearing out of nowhere, only wanted her to look into his eyes. Right.



But incomprehensible or not, she knew she wasn’t dreaming. The bite of the man’s fingers on her jaw was too clear. His scent too real. Too…luscious.



She groaned. “I’ve got to be dreaming.”



“You are dreaming. Now look into my eyes!”



“I am!” she snapped back. “Or I’m trying to. It might be easier to do if you took off those ridiculous sunglasses. In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s nighttime.”



He growled low, the sound almost that of a jungle animal. Oh yeah, she was moving from nightmare to delirium. Any minute now Phil the Easter Bunny was going to hop into the room. And she probably wouldn’t even notice, so mesmerized was she by the killer’s amazing mouth.



Definitely delirious.



Something brushed her mind, a softness, almost a warmth that eased the lingering pain of the vision.



“You won’t remember my face,” the man murmured softly in that deep, sexy voice.



“Of course not.” Like she could ever forget that face.



He wasn’t beautiful. Such a word implied a degree of softness, and there wasn’t one soft thing about the man’s features. Strong jaw, hard cheekbones, and a mouth that could have been sculpted by the finest artist. Not a single softness about him, yet his looks were utterly arresting.



“I’m dreaming, remember?”



The growl that rumbled in the man’s throat sounded more pained than threatening, his mouth thinning with displeasure. The softness brushed her mind stronger than before, sending a shiver of pleasure rippling through her blood.



His scent teased her nostrils, increasing the pleasure playing with her senses. He smelled wonderful. Like the air after a thunderstorm, clean and fresh, and a little wild. The feel of his body pressing against hers sent heat coursing through her veins to pool damply between her legs.



Heaven help her, she was turning into one mentally disturbed puppy because this guy was actually turning her on.



The man sucked in a breath as if he could feel her body’s traitorous response to him. The hand at her jaw gentled, his thumb brushing over her skin, melting her from the inside out.



Against her abdomen, the hard, thick length of him swelled. Her body quickened, her breasts turning tight and heavy.



This was sick. Sick. He was a killer!



“Let go of me.”



“Can’t do that, brown eyes. Besides, it’s a dream, remember?”



His voice slid through her like warm syrup.



She was losing it, absolutely losing it if she was getting turned on by the man who was preparing to kill her. After he raped her. Though, heaven help her, she wasn’t sure it would be rape. The thought of him taking her, sliding that thick shaft deep inside her, made her body clench and weep.



“What are you doing to me?”



“Rain and thunder,” he growled. He released her face and reached for her hands, forcing them against her cheeks as his warm fingers brushed her skin. “We’re going to try this again.”



“Try what? What exactly are we trying to do?” If she knew, maybe she could help him. Or pretend to. If she got him to let his guard down, maybe she could find a way to escape.



He didn’t answer her. Instead, he licked his lips, sending a shiver of longing shimmering through her. A need to feel her mouth against those lips. Sick.



He clenched his jaw and pressed his fingers firmly against her cheeks.



Like before, warmth brushed her mind, but this time it went deeper, flowing down into her body on a rush of pleasure so sharp she gasped. Desire swamped her, and she thrust her hips against his, rubbing herself on the hard length of his erection. Even as her body burned, her mind recoiled, horrified at her body’s betrayal. She couldn’t have played the part of the horny slut any better if she’d tried.



The thought brought her up short. What if she could use this ungodly attraction to her advantage? In war, anything was fair. And sexual desire had been wielded as a powerful weapon since the dawn of time.



All she needed was a moment to turn the tables on him, to outsmart him and seize control. A moment to take the bastard down.



Her mind spun. Rape wasn’t his usual M.O. None of the other victims had been sexually assaulted. If she could get him to have sex with her, he might start thinking of her as something other than his next victim.



It would be the last mistake he ever made.



Chapter Five



Tighe stifled a groan as the half-naked woman rubbed her lace-clad pelvis against the erection filling his pants. He’d never had this much trouble exerting a little mind control over a human.



What in the hell was happening? He could barely think through the flood of sensations assaulting his body. The sweet, exotic scent of her intoxicated him. The taste of her arousal danced on his tongue, making his body throb and ache. His hands shook with the need to free his erection, push aside the scrap of lace that covered her honey, and push himself deep inside her.



Get control! Yes, she was beautiful, and hotter than sin, but his life was at stake here. Sex was not on the agenda.



But, goddess, she was lovely. Her flawless skin was the light natural tan of the Mediterranean, her limbs long and slender, her body toned and strong, yet not without lush, perfect curves. Her hair, fire-lit mahogany, had come loose and fallen around her shoulders in soft waves. Her eyes were the same dark color, though while her hair sparkled with red-and-gold highlights, her eyes glittered with hatred.



The only thing, the only thing he should be thinking about was clouding her mind so he could climb inside and retrieve his visions. Maybe then, he’d finally be able to catch that good-for-nothing clone.



But getting control of her was proving to be damned difficult. Twice he’d tried to cloud her mind. Twice all he’d seemed to do was arouse her. Which was a disaster on so many levels.



Because he had to remain in control himself, and that was hard to do when one of the most beautiful women he’d ever touched was thrusting her hips against him, gasping with desire.



His gaze caressed her face, then moved to her eyes, staring into their dark depths as he once more pressed into her mind to control and cloud. But all she did was gasp, her passion thickening as she resisted his control as no human ever had before.



Hawke’s words came back to him. She’s only 99.9 percent human now.



And, apparently, immune to his control.



Maybe if he could calm her, he’d be able to breach her mind’s unnatural defenses. He softened his hold on her jaw, his gaze drawn to the rich fullness of her mouth. Heat swirled low in his body, his own mouth aching for a taste of her. “Don’t be afraid of me. I’m not going to hurt you.”



“It’s not fear I’m feeling right now.” Her voice was low and husky as she pressed that tiny scrap of lace against his raging erection. “You’re a handsome man. Sexy as hell.”



Sweet nature, did she realize she was asking him to take her? He focused on the taste of her emotions. Desire was there, but barely discernible beneath the fear and the fury and the raw, hard-core determination.



He snorted with understanding. The lady Fed was playing him. Trying to use the attraction between them to distract him so she might escape.



Smart.



And damned annoying. Because he’d been attempting to play her. Clearly trying to calm her wasn’t going to do an ounce of good because, at the moment, she had better control over her emotions than he did his.



So if calming her wasn’t the way to get past her mental barriers, he needed to get her to lower her guard another way. Perhaps by earning her trust. And he knew just the way to go about it. With what was, amazingly, almost the truth.



“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Delaney.”



She tensed, her eyes flaring for only an instant. “You know my name.”



“I had to find you. I’m not who you think I am.”



Hard eyes probed his face, the touch of her gaze deceptively soft. “And who do I think you are?” Her sultry voice felt like a stroke to his throbbing cock.



Heaven help him.



“You think I’m the man who attacked you, the man who’s killed more than a dozen people in the past few days. But I’m not him.”



Sharp doubt ripped through her eyes, then disappeared behind a wary screen. “Who are you, then?”



“His twin.” He stroked her soft cheek with his thumb, enchanted by the silky smoothness of her skin. Would her skin taste as sweetly exotic as she smelled? “That’s why you’re still alive, brown eyes. My evil twin would never have let you live. I’m not sure how you managed to escape him the first time.”



Her gaze searched his face as if looking for the truth. “Someone shot him,” she said slowly. “I shot him.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is he dead?”



“No. He’s still very much alive. Which is why I’m here.” He opened his mouth to tell her he’d come to protect her, then remembered who she was. What she was. Delaney Randall was no damsel in distress. She was a warrior. He needed to appeal to that in her. “I want to stop him before he kills again, and I know you do, too. If we work together, we can get him, Delaney.” He stroked her cheek, watching her formidable brain debate his words.



“Work with me, brown eyes.” He tasted her doubt, her uncertainty, and pressed his advantage. “Help me catch him before he kills again.”



He tasted it, the small, secret lift of excitement amid her raging doubt. The opening of her mind, just a sliver.



It was enough.



Tighe pushed hard into her mind, pressing against the softened resistance. He had no choice but to force his way in. If he couldn’t get control of her, he had to kill her.



No choice.



The woman’s eyes widened, then fell heavily as she moaned, her body arching to rub against his arousal. Her passion surged, rising like a thick, exotic scent on her skin, ensnaring him, threatening to wrench him free of his own thinning control.



She groaned. “What are you trying to do to me?”



“Not this.”



Goddess help him. He had to get past the barrier in her mind. As he pushed harder, she flung her head back, gasping for air, looking for all the world like a woman about to…



She screamed as she came, her body rocking, shaking, shuddering with the force of her release.